


Happy Birthday John

by imleadinginmyhead



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Heinoustuck - Freeform, Horror, Hunt, Scary, Transmutation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:46:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2085993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imleadinginmyhead/pseuds/imleadinginmyhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the AU heinoustuck, it's John's 13th birthday. It's him versus his Dad as he avoids contact with the disturbing old man for as long as he can, despite being told of the inevitable by his monster-friend Dave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday John

            John’s heart raced as he ran up the stairs for the fifth time that day.  He didn’t dare to turn back, fearing that if he did he would see his father within an arm’s length.  He ran into his room after practically body slamming the already partially open door, not hesitating a moment to close and lock it in a hurried frenzy.  He turned to his left, getting a solid hold onto his dresser and shoved it in front of his own door as quickly as he could.  He took a few steps back from the large piece of furniture and mentally remarked how it could be used as a makeshift fort. _Who’s kidding here? It isn’t a fort, unless I decide to sleep in the drawers or something or spend the time to put blankets and stuff on top of it_. Of course that wouldn’t actually work considering the bottom drawer is actually two drawers and if he were to attempt sliding into the top drawer, it would surely break.  Also, he really didn’t have the time to make a fort of any size or shape; he was still trying to preserve his own life for as long as he could.

 

 _I can hear my Dad actually coming down the hall towards me.  Damn it, he is really at his wits end this time.  He isn’t pushing on the door yet, but at the very least he’s picking up the cake that I threw at him out of my sylladex.  That means he’s only a few feet from my door now._   John’s gaze lifted from the top of his dresser and locked on the SBURB Beta poster that he had hanging on his door.  If there was any time that he wished he had x-ray vision, now would be it.  It was eerily quiet outside of his room as his father seemed to have come to a halt and he could hear the cold winds blowing outside the house, creating the perfect noise to fill in the void that seemed to encompass the inside of the house.

 

John’s nerves were making his hair stand on end; his muscles tensed as he thought he heard some irritated groan from the other side of his door. Sure he had grown up in such a creepy place for his whole life, but still; this day was the day that he had been dreading since he was told how “special” it was supposed to be.  His 13th birthday, the day he never wanted to come, was marked as the day when he was supposed to go through the transmutation process.  A surgery would be performed on him to make him transform into some sort of hideous half-human half-monster freak show.  What if his dad actually broke through the door somehow? Maybe if he used one of the drawers, John could break his window open and escape if the need arose.  His dad would be too big to be able to follow him right away, so maybe he would have a bit of a chance.  But even if he landed without breaking something, what would he do afterwards?  Maybe he could back track inside through another window or a side door? There really was nothing that he could fathom that was worse than maybe being caught in the kitchen while trying to run away. The doctors would probably come there to “fix him up” after having been locked in the stove at a mild 110 degrees. Nope, that was not something that he wanted to think about at all.

 

However, would his DAD really be that cruel?  As much as he had always been fully aware that his dad would be just like this today, he had tried to maintain a benefit of the doubt that for some reason, he would show mercy or compassion like most fathers in the stories that he read did.  He knew that for some time now today, his dad had been exercising restraint out of compassion or maybe he just could not bring himself to become the true monster he looked like towards his son.  His dad would be the one to stand between him and scalpel.  Alas, hearing another groan that seemed to breathe right on the wood of the door, that was not the case; it never really was a feasible idea.  His dad was always talking about how proud he would be when he saw his little boy turn into a true jokester.  John had no idea, nor wanted to know what exactly that entailed with changing his body composition and thought patterns.  So far each of his friends had some major part of their personalities removed or amplified.

 

His computer flickered in the dimly lit room behind him, apparently someone had messaged him.  That’s funny, he could have sworn that he at least locked the computer before heading downstairs to encounter his dad in the living room.  Oh great, it is Mr. I-know-what-your-doing-all-the-time birdbrain.  His friend used to be so cool. He would talk about how he was kind of afraid what the transmutation would do to him, and said that he would fight his brother to the death if he had to.  He wanted to hold out on getting changed just long enough to play the video game that John had gotten in the mail today.  But apparently, when Dave strifed against his brother back in December, he lost brutally and was stabbed through the chest with his own sword.  John had seen pictures of him after the transmutation and had seen how the doctors were able to save his friend, also how they were able to destroy him.  Now all that the “feathery asshole” talked about was how “it’s not such a big deal to be turned into a monster” because you never change and have the potential to live forever. John still didn’t care how much better it would be for him to just give in and become some deformed freak like everyone else. It was just too sickening for him to handle and he was going to do everything he could to at least prolong the amount of time he spent as a sane human. However, he couldn’t dwell on all of the stories he read of humans who never were transmuted and died of old age peacefully.

 

John: Answer this feathery asshole.

 

            TG: hey john

            TG: i see that you are online

            TG: i guess you dad hasnt gotten you yet???

            EB: no he hasn’t! i’ve actually been able to survive this long without him successfully capturing me.

            EB: i have to say, i didn’t think that i was going to escape from that last encounter.

            EB: he almost had me this time and i think he’s standing outside my bedroom door right now...

            TG: aw man

            TG: you really shouldnt try to fight it so much

            EB: WHY NOT?

            TG: it is going to be harder for you later on

            TG: just saying

            EB: look, i don’t care what your opinion on transmutation is.

            EB: all i know is that it isn’t something that i want to go through.

            EB: EVER.

            EB: i can hardly handle how much it has changed you and rose and jade.

            EB: remember how things used to be? how nice jade was, how calm rose was, how you actually gave a damn about fighting the system and you weren’t so cynical?

            TG: old news john

            TG: my eyes have been opened to the possibilities that my transmutation gave me

            TG: i can even fly sometimes

            EB: yeah. when your wings aren’t also stabbed through that sword in your chest.

            EB: eugh.

            TG: hey its easy to hang things on it when i don’t feel like carrying shit

            EB: who gives a flying fuck?!

            EB: i’d rather have two hands than two claws or tentacles, or 8 spider legs, or 6 arms.

            TG: you are going to have it happen

            TG: whether you fight or not

            TG: you might be able to protect yourself from your dad in the end

            TG: that is only if you actually kill him

            TG: which i wouldnt recommend considering that he has his best intentions for you

            TG: that being said

            TG: even if you are able to get rid of your dad you wont be able to stop the transmutation

            EB: what?

            EB: what do you mean i won’t be able to stop it?

            TG: because youre going to have another person to watch out for

            EB: ..............

            TG: ......

            EB: WHO?

            TG: caw

\----       --------  TG stopped pestering EB--------

 

            _YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME._ He internally screamed as he shoved his hand up against his own mouth, pushing his back up against the chair at his computer. This guy, this former friend who used to think the same way he did, apparently knows that someone else is going to help his crazy dad in essentially kidnapping him to go get his transmutation done?  Wonderful, there was going to be no way he would be able to fight off more than one giant ass creature trying to turn him into a joker themed monster.  Hang on, something didn’t add up.  How could Dave possibly even know if there was someone in the area that would force John to change?  Was he just being cryptic and trying to make him paranoid? He was on his dad’s side after all.  John got up from his chair and pushed it back into its place, still trying to figure out exactly what Dave had meant.  _He must have just been joking or something. Yeah, joking.  You’re supposed to be able to laugh at jokes and then they make you feel better. Let me give that a shot because I really need that right now. Hahaha-OH shit!_

 

            John’s train of thought was interrupted by a loud bang on the other side of his door, causing him to turn towards the sound in a single swift motion.  He could hardly breathe as his own lungs seized up in fear and dread.  His dad was out there and he was not happy.  He was officially done with his son’s shit and was going to drag him out of that room kicking and screaming, or drugged.  John wanted nothing more than to just disappear somehow; instead, he found himself backing up against the wall and just watching the door shudder with every hit.  A cold sweat dripped down John’s spine; it was really going to be over soon.  Once that door broke, there would be no change in hell that he would be able to hide any longer.  _I have to move_.

 

            Trying to analyze his options in a panic, John scanned his room and his eyes kept focusing on the window. Maybe, just maybe, if he broke the window open but still hid in his room, his Dad would think he had jumped outside or something. That would get his Dad out of the house long enough for John to find a better hiding spot than under his bed.  Whatever he did, he would have to do it soon.  His “window of opportunity” as it were, was closing swiftly.  John grabbed his hammer and with two hands grasping onto it, swung it against the window with all of his might. The window did break, but it was only a small hole. Did his dad really give him shatterproof windows?  John shook his head quickly trying to think of something else to throw. It’s like he needed to eject something large enough to- that was it!  John went over to his chest and opened it. He already had Colonel Sassacre’s text in his sylladex, but he had to launch the smoke pellets out first in order to get to the tome.  He filled his cards up quickly by grabbing the beagle puss glasses and stunt sword. Then he decided eject the pellets by grabbing his copy of Harry Anderson’s “Wise Guy”.  When the pellets flew out, they did not burst into smoke, but just flew towards the direction of his desk. 

 

This was good. John stood over by the capsules and faced the back wall. If he was correct, the text should fly out towards his left and plow right through the window.  He mentally crossed his fingers as he picked up the pellets, causing the book to successfully shatter the target. This not only obliterated the glass, but left a wide enough break that he could definitely get through with no problem.  John smiled a little as the cold breeze flowed into the windows. He hadn’t realized that he must have been holding his breath for a while, or at least barely breathing properly, as the deep breath he took in of the chilly air seemed more like a stretch of his lungs than a normal bodily function.  His senses were waking up again and he felt that he was able to focus in a more calm fashion.  There was another loud pound on the door which nearly made him freeze up again.  His dad had definitely heard the glass shattering as the pounds on the door were of a greater force. John could see the wood splintering and knew that he only had a few seconds left before being spotted standing there like a fool.  Hardly spearing a second, John lunged over to his bed and shimmied his way under the bed with his head turned towards the black wall, making sure to tuck his left arm and leg in as tight as he could.  He laid still, quieting his breathing to the best of his ability in under five seconds.

 

            He realized just how close he was to having been caught as John heard the loudest thud closely followed by a crash and the shaking of the floor underneath him.  His dad had officially broken through the top of the door and was most likely peering into the room.  He could hear the muffled crackle of his dad’s pipe as his eyes darted around in the dark.  Sure there was nothing to look at, but for some reason it made John feel like he was getting a better idea of what was going on by keeping his eyes open and himself alert.  His fists clenched and he bit the inside of his mouth, trying to keep himself from whimpering as he heard his father slide the dresser out of the way.  He seemed calmer now, or at least was focused enough to not make as much of a ruckus as he walked into John’s room.  John could remember the last time his father was in his room. It was when they had the talk about transmutation. John had been so upset with everything that his dad had told him that he literally did not sleep for 72 hours until he passed out on the stairs after trying to get away from some of his dad’s confectionary food.  He had woken up back in his room with a note on the very dresser he just used to keep his father out of it saying:

 

            I understand how scared you are, son. Just know that I will be there for you on that day and I will be so much more proud of you when you wake up. :o)

 

            God that was creepy.  John shut his eyes, trying to block out the unpleasant memory filling his head. He heard his dad go to his window and growl in a way that made his pipe flame crackle louder.  John knew that his plan worked because his dad pounded out of the room, the footsteps getting softer and softer as he went downstairs. Maybe he was going to leave and actually search outside for him. John admitted that it was not too safe out there, but there should be nothing that could seriously injure his dad considering his size and strength.  Did his Dad actually care if he left the house unprotected?  After a moment’s pause, he heard a door creak open in the living room and close shortly after leaving the house in silence again.

 

John let out a sigh of relief as he started working his way out from under his bed. He still couldn’t turn his head around as he shifted his shoulders and hips in the tight crevice. Finally feeling the pressure of the bed being lifted off of his back, John stood up a little too quickly and got a slight scrape on his right arm.  While sitting on his knees, John assessed his room.  It looked like it was in shambles due to the broken window and out of place dresser that now sat in the middle of the room.  As a precaution, John decided to put the dresser back in front of the door.  He still had half of a form of protection from his Dad whenever he came back.

 

Upon standing up from pushing the heavy dresser into a more effective position, John heard a flutter behind him.  It didn’t sound like curtains, he didn’t even have curtains in the room. It sounded more like clothing, and something thicker. John turned his head partially, trying to catch a glimpse with his eyes before fully facing whatever had entered his room. He had his hammer, but that would probably not work well against anything that was able to sneak into his room without him noticing.  He could just barely make out the dark silhouette of something sitting on his desk. It had either knocked over his computer entirely or was currently resting its appendages on them.

 

“Caw,” John turned abruptly to lay his eyes upon the figure of a transmuted boy, not much older than him, with black hair and a bird face. His black eyes had a red gear like line that circled the white bull’s eye in the center of the seemingly mechanical stare that bore into his own blue eyes.  His hands were birdlike claws that had begun lightly tapping on the table he sat on.  His legs were long, with one crossed over the other, and draped over the chair in front of the desk.

 

“No,” John said, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned against his dresser for support. His legs had gone weak as he realized his friend, or rather, this monster was going to be the one to ensure that he was transmutated.  If he could pull himself together long enough, maybe he could dart into the hallway and lock himself in the bathroom or something.  Just as he thought this, John heard another noise behind him.  The all too familiar crackle of his father’s pipe seemed to resound in his right ear. _When did he get up the stairs? When did he get back into the house? Had he never left?_

 

There was no escape for the young Egbert. He was leaning against his last line of defense against his Dad but he had no way of using it against the monster that was already in his room.  It is going to be a long day.

**Author's Note:**

> I am hoping to make this a two chapter thing, so don't kill me for leaving it as such a cliff hanger. I hope to continue this shortly! (By shortly, it will probably end up being a month haha)


End file.
